


My Soul Expands in the Worship

by ForeverShippingJohnlock



Series: Fellowship of Literacy Prompts [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Autumn, Chess, Discussion of Death, Enigmatic conversations, Gen, Introspection, Tea, the slightest teeniest tiniest bit of Sebaciel if you really squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 14:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12322617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverShippingJohnlock/pseuds/ForeverShippingJohnlock
Summary: There are aspects of life that Ciel had always thought separate: his similarities to Autumn, the nature of change, the inevitability of death, the concept of beauty. But, with Sebastian's help, he soon realizes an existing harmony he'd never considered before.





	My Soul Expands in the Worship

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!! So if any of you are on the Black Butler amino, you might have heard of the Fellowship of Literacy. As a member, our first prompt was to choose a character who represented Autumn and write a story about it! I immediately thought of Ciel and that's how this whole fic came to be!! I hope you like it <3
> 
> The title is taken from a quote by Mahatma Ghandi :)

It’s a beautiful fall afternoon, the kind that only seems to be available during the beginnings of October. The leaves are changing colours, the wind whips with just the slightest chill, the birds are escaping to warmer destinations, and Ciel Phantomhive sits in his office signing his name to yet another document. He sighs and puts down his pen, massaging his cramped hand.

He turns in the chair meant for a body larger than his, and regards the picturesque grounds. Normally, nature does not stir his reserved emotions, but today he feels up for the distraction. Looking at the time, he sees it is almost three o’clock.

“Sebastian,” he says, knowing that the butler will hear him regardless of where he is in the manor.

Sure enough, the black-clad demon emerges in the doorway, barely a second after his name had been uttered. _Good dog,_ Ciel thinks with no small amount of smugness.

“You called, my lord?” Sebastian asks.

“Yes. I’ll take my tea in the greenhouse today.”

If Sebastian is surprised by the request, he doesn’t show it. “Of course, sir, it will be ready momentarily. Will that be all?”

Ciel just waves his hand at him dismissively in lieu of reply, and Sebastian takes his leave with a small customary bow. Ciel stands, stretching, before leaving his mountainous paperwork to leisurely make his way towards the greenhouse.

When he gets there, Sebastian opens the door just as he’s reaching for it. Ciel rolls his eyes and walks in, the rare sunlight pouring from the tall windows, bathing his cream skin. The tea table is set up sufficiently – perfectly, in truth, as is Sebastian’s way, but Ciel would never tell him so – and Ciel takes a seat, Sebastian pulling the chair out for him. The table is covered with a laced white cloth, and on it sits a few delicious looking cakes, one of their simpler designed tea sets, and a vase of beautiful flowers that reflect the colours displayed outside. Ciel sits back in his seat a little, getting comfortable, and helps himself to a cake. The pastry practically melts in his mouth and the taste is nothing short of delectable, but Ciel keeps his face passive. _If Sebastian’s ego gets any bigger, his head won’t fit through the door._

Sebastian swiftly approaches, tea pot in hand, and begins to pour in an elegant arc. “Today, we have earl grey paired with pumpkin spice cakes. I hope it is to your liking, sir,” Sebastian says.

Ciel breathes in the scent of his favourite tea, enjoying the warmth radiating from the cup. He takes a sip and winces just slightly at the boiling temperature, but is comforted by the familiar pleasant taste nonetheless. Sebastian stands to the side, waiting for another order or perhaps a dismissal, but receives neither.

Ciel stares out of the windows at the large looming trees with their branches sporting innumerable leaves of autumnal shades. The sun shines through them, giving them an almost semi-transparent glow. He had originally considered taking his tea in the garden, but knew Sebastian would never allow it in this weather. Ever since finding out about Ciel’s asthma, the butler had been very strict about prolonged exposure to any kind of chilled weather. So, he knew he’d have to make do with the greenhouse – the closest he could get to being outside while still remaining indoors. Sometimes Ciel couldn’t help but wonder who was really master of whom here, and the thought annoyed him. He takes a calming breath and drinks his tea that has now cooled to perfect temperature, before surveying his surroundings once more.

_What makes this beautiful?_

Ciel knows how absurd such a question is, that the concept of beauty is entirely subjective, but in that moment he can’t help but contemplate it. Fall is simply a mark of the ever-popular summer’s end, and an omen of the dreaded winter. Where was the beauty in that?

Ciel finishes his tea, and forgoes manners to put his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his hand. He feels restless, and suddenly craves a distraction.

“Sebastian, would you care for a game of chess?” Ciel asks. Although it’s posed as a question, Ciel’s tone quite clearly implies that there is a right answer.

“Of course, sir,” Sebastian says, slight surprise in his tone. They’ve played before – and indeed Sebastian is an extremely formidable opponent – but Ciel typically prefers to play against himself.

Sebastian begins to clear away space on the table. Ciel raises an eyebrow when the demon produces the chess board from one of the shelves of the tea cart, as if he expected this all along.

“Rather presumptuous of you, don’t you think?” Ciel drawls as Sebastian places the board in front of him and sits at the chair opposite.

Sebastian just smiles that infuriatingly enigmatic smile, “If you’ll forgive the liberty, my young master seemed in rather a pensive mood today, and I anticipated you might want a break from your musings, whatever they may be.”

There’s a question there, Ciel knows, but he steadfastly ignores it. Instead, he just begins setting up the white pieces on his side of the board, Sebastian following suit with his black. Ciel goes first as is customary on the white side, and their game begins.

For a while, silence dominates the greenhouse as both players focus on their individual strategies, but soon Ciel’s mind begins to wander once more and it doesn’t take long for Sebastian to notice. Sebastian takes Ciel’s bishop with his knight – an oversight that, were Ciel fully concentrated, never would have missed.

“May I ask where your head is at, my lord? Because, if I may be so bold, it’s certainly not on the game,” Sebastian teases lightly.

Ciel huffs an annoyed breath as Sebastian takes his bishop off the board, “Oh, shut up,” he replies. They play on, but between turns, Ciel looks out the windows again.

Fall is an ending. The happier warmth of summer into its more desolate successor. He considers that in a bizarre way, he feels as if he truly understands the season. The innocent summer of childhood that had been taken from him so quickly, into his current stage of life with his loyal demon by his side. And he idly supposes that winter would represent Sebastian’s lethal kiss, when revenge is taken and all that Ciel ever was and could have been will be consumed into cold nothingness.

Was there beauty in that cycle? The never-ending change? The inevitable end?

“Sebastian, do demons… change?” Ciel suddenly asks, the question voicing itself before he has a chance to reign the thought back in. Sebastian looks surprised for a moment, but quickly recovers.

“As in change forms? Yes, we do. I believe you’ve seen my raven form on occasion.”

“No, not _forms_. I mean… who you are. Does it ever change?” Ciel returns, already feeling moronic for posing the question. Distracted, he moves a pawn forward two spaces.

Sebastian performs an en passant with his own pawn, capturing the one Ciel just moved. “Yes, as all things do.”

Ciel’s brows furrow for a moment as he considers that response. “But you’re immortal. You have no life cycle to adhere to.”

“Perhaps not, but I’ve lived through countless lifetimes of experiences, and I believe each one has changed me, if only an infinitesimal amount.”

Ciel chews on this response for a minute, but says nothing. The silence is broken by Sebastian as he continues.

“In a way, I’m almost envious of humans.”

Ciel lets out a disbelieving snort of derision, “Why? Humans are vile.”

The young earl is completely aware of the hypocrisy of the statement, but he continues to stand by it. Sebastian huffs a small chuckle before explaining.

“A mundane cycle made less so by its inevitable ending.”

“How so?” Ciel can’t help but question, “Surely its ending makes everything before it pointless?”

“Far from it, young master. Humans have a limited number of breaths, an impending expiry date that makes each moment all the more precious. As all things change, all things die. Some things slower than most, demons for example, but I’m sure there will eventually be a day where even I turn to dust. Living is a preface to dying, but that doesn’t make the living pointless, or the dying inherently repugnant.” Sebastian takes a moment, presumably to let his points sink in. His eyes meander to the window, and he gestures to it with a gloved hand. “Observe the leaves, my lord, if you will. They only attain such hues because their death is nigh. And yet that is exactly when their beauty shines through the most.”

Sebastian looks at Ciel then, and his eyes flash crimson for the briefest of seconds. In that moment, Ciel feels like he’s not simply being looked _at_ , but looked _into._ It’s as if Sebastian is looking inward to the soul he’s been craving for years. Ciel wonders why, and thinks about Sebastian’s explanation, realizing with a start that it must have reminded the demon of Ciel’s impending fate. He’s hit with the gravity of the moment; Sebastian has always made it clear that the contracted soul was in some way special, but Ciel had never once considered his soul to be beautiful. The thought made him feel oddly lighter somehow, and he simply didn’t know what to think about that.

“If one is moved to care about such trifles, I suppose,” Ciel replies flippantly, suddenly feeling the need to sever the unnamed energy crackling between them.

Ciel breaks the intense eye contact, gaze zeroing in on the chess board with renewed determination. Sebastian – evidently sidetracked by his soliloquy – had left his queen open for the taking. Ciel moves his knight in its customary ‘L’ formation and captures the piece with a smug smile. Sebastian’s eyes narrow slightly into a laser-like focus.

The game continues apace, ruthlessly strategic, neither player able to gain the upper hand.

After a while, Ciel grins and moves his rook. “Checkmate,” he declares triumphantly.

Sebastian regards the chess board for a moment before smirking, “Actually, sir, I think you’ll find this game to be a stalemate.”

Ciel analyzes every possible move and slumps back in his chair when he determines that Sebastian is correct. “Irony upon irony,” he mutters indignantly, too quiet for a human ear to pick up. Sebastian smiles a little from across the table and Ciel knows that he heard, but quickly finds that he could care less.

Ciel stands, thinking he’d put off his paperwork for long enough. He’s about to leave when Sebastian holds up a gloved finger.

“Just a moment,” he says as he turns his back to Ciel. He turns around, holding a small orange rose from the vase of flowers on the table, and approaches Ciel. “If you’ll allow me.”

To Ciel’s surprise, Sebastian places the bloom into one of his buttonholes. He regards it for a brief second, then looks at Ciel in seriousness. “Autumn becomes you, my young lord,” he says, and Ciel knows that Sebastian is talking of much more than simple fall colours. He knows it, but has no idea what to do with it, ever-reluctant to show any signs of weakness or vulnerability.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ciel snaps dismissively out of instinct. He removes the flower from his jacket immediately. He plans to throw it on the ground, but can’t seem to manage it for some reason. Instead, he just regards Sebastian with a haughty look and stalks out of the greenhouse, rose in hand.

He walks the short distance to his office and sits in his chair. He turns and faces the window again, feeling the delicate petals of the bloom between finger and thumb. His eyes trail the descent of a single leaf falling from its tree as he mulls over Sebastian’s words.

One season into another, summer into fall, one ending into another beginning. Perhaps Ciel could learn to see the beauty in that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I'd love to know your thoughts in the comments :)


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